Foreigners
by StarlightGilgalad
Summary: When a modern 2017 family unknowingly enters the world of Middle Earth, they are forced to make a new life for themselves. THIS STORY HAS AN OC FAMILY OF 5, NO LOVE INTERESTS PLANNED. This is a family adventure story, seeing as I can't find one to read. Boom. Enjoy. UPDATES WILL BE SLOW
1. Chapter 1

**Hello old and new readers! Yes I've come up with a new story. I'm almost done writing the first Liquid Gold story, (although there have been some** **complications) and now I'm trying my hand at something new. This particular story was demanding to be written partly because it's based on an experience I had and thought "Hey this would make a good story beginning" and mostly because of the lack of stories revolving around an entire family. Therefore, please Enjoy!**

 **WARNING! THIS STORY HAS BIG WORDS. Also, DISCLAIMER!**

* * *

 **Forgieners**

Chapter 1

"So why did I punch that guy for you?"

Asher Hunter. No he isn't the main character.

"What! You mean you didn't even have a reason to punch him?!"

Henry Hunter, otherwise known as Dad. He isn't the main character either. In fact, I should probably mention that there isn't really a main character in this story - there are _many_ main characters. Well, there's me - the narrator - and I'm in the story, but since that isn't important I'm just going to refer to myself in third person and you'll just have to guess who I am. Or not, doesn't matter to me one bit.

Anyway as I was saying, the family was on a road trip- Oh… I should probably introduce the rest of the family too at this point.

There's Henry - he's thirty-eight and married to Roselyn, who's thirty-six. Henry is a high school art teacher and track coach. He's also the designated family cook because the others don't even understand the concepts of 'simmer' and 'salt' and 'tablespoon'. Luckily for the rest of them, he's excellent at making a piece of paper with words on it into something one can eat. Roselyn on the other hand, is very particular. She insists that her name be pronounced _Rahs-ah-lyn_ and shames anyone who doesn't do likewise. She's the CEO of some famous company which I've forgotten the name of and a hard core knitter in her spare time - which the children complain bitterly about, on account of the millions of socks and the copious amounts of yarn lying around the house.

Which brings me to the children. The oldest - Morgan - is fifteen, an intermediate snowboarder, and most likely to be future prom queen. Her fashion sense is top notch and she can usually always be heard commenting on her younger brothers' _lack_ of said sense.

Asher, the middle child and twelve years of age, is a right nerd. Obsessed with all things Middle Earth, he is quite the accomplished Tolkien disciple and historian. And might I add, he is also a Dungeons and Dragons master player - whatever that means. He differs from his younger brother on the account that _his_ fashion sense is at least some what acceptable - according to Morgan.

David, universally known as Davy (if the universe is even aware of his existence) is a Survivalist Minecrafter and Playground Strategist - titles he has bestowed upon himself. At seven years old he, of course, has seen all the world has to offer and is very opinionated, rivaling even Morgan's pious comments (if such a thing were possible).

There. Those descriptions should do well enough for this narrative and I- Oh dear. I forgot to tell you what they _look_ like. Ah well, here goes.

Roselyn has dark brown skin, light brown eyes, and black curly hair.

Henry has dark tan skin, green eyes, and light brown straight hair.

Morgan has medium brown skin, green eyes, and black curly hair.

Asher has light tan skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown curly hair.

David has medium brown skin, dark brown eyes, and light brown wavy hair.

There. I'm not expecting you to remember. You've probably already made assumptions on their appearances before now any how. Oh well. As I said, doesn't matter to me. But just know that I will be reminding you of what they look like periodically in this narrative because it _is_ actually rather important once the story really kicks off. Now where was I? Oh yes. They were on a road trip…

"I had an excellent reason!" Asher proclaimed. "Morgan told me to!"

"Just because Morgan tell you to do something, doesn't mean you should do it!" Roselyn remarked despondently.

"I am well aware." Asher's tone was rather miffed. "However Morgan was being bothered by a rather presumptuous young man. I merely offered my assistance and she had me deck the fellow."

"Do ya have to talk like that?" Davy complained. "You sound kinda weird."

"It's not my problem that your vocabulary is far more limited than my own," Asher crossed his arms.

"Morgan..." Henry accused. "What have I told you about hanging out with annoying guys?"

"It's not my fault that he thought I was an easy target!" Morgan protested. "Besides we had it covered!"

"Indeed!" Asher grinned. "He tucked tail and ran like the coward he was after his friends laughed when I decked him. They even congratulated me. Apparently he wasn't very popular among them."

Henry sighed. "Well next time just tell him to go away. If you keep giving off mixed signals then boys will think you're interested. And don't you protest! We all know you do."

"Whatever." Morgan slouched in her seat and put her earbuds back in.

"Henry?" Roselyn pondered. "Look at this." She took a hand off the wheel and gestured to the map displayed on her phone. "The road is all red up ahead. The Google lady wants us to get off and go around. Here, there's a suggested route."

"Out here in the middle of nowhere?" Henry shook his head. "I wouldn't rely on it."

"But this isn't Japan. The map knows which roads are actual roads and things."

The narrator should probably take this moment to explain that Google maps cannot differentiate between one way roads and highways in Japan. It thinks you can take any of them in any direction.

"I know, but these look like dirt roads."

"We have four wheel drive, and this is a truck."

"If you think it's a good idea," Henry shrugged.

"The lady says it will take an hour off the total. What do you guys think?"

"Go for it." Morgan shrugged.

"Might as well." Asher glanced over his mother's shoulder. "Davy?"

"I'm fighting Creepers. Don't bother me!"

"Right, off roading it is," Roselyn declared. They took the next exit and followed a road next to the freeway for a while before it turned right and ran through the forest. After several minutes they came to what looked like a campground entrance.

"This won't go anywhere," Henry cautioned.

"The map says it goes all the way through. It comes out on the other side." Roselyn insisted.

The family continued on along the bumpy dirt road until they hit a patch of land devoid of cell service. The map couldn't track their location anymore but the route was still outlined so the CEO made an executive decision and decided to keep going. The road, which at this point was more of a wagon trail than anything else, continued to deteriorate until it could be called a trail, or possibly a goat track.

The Narrator confesses that, strictly speaking, "goat track" is a bit in an under exaggeration. The road was still wide enough for the truck to pass under the branches of the trees without undue damage. Perhaps the word _lane_ would be better suited to the true nature of the road. It was covered with grass and there were sad little patches of snow in the naturally shaded areas. The sun had gone down before the Hunters had left the freeway and the stars were shining brightly in the clear heavens.

The lane continued to twist and turn, and Henry glanced at the gas needle. With a shocked start, he announced, "The tank's empty."

"What?" Roselyn frowned, peering at the gage. "But we just filled up about an hour and a half ago! It can't be empty yet."

"We'll see for yourself."

"Are we going to die out here?" Davy demanded.

"No dear. We'll call 911 if we get stranded."

"And how, pray tell, are we supposed to do so when there's _still_ no cellular?" Asher inquired.

The adults fell silent, trying to formulate an acceptable answer, when suddenly the vehicle came to a stop.

"Great!" Morgan retorted. "We're lost in the middle of the woods, with no gas, no cell service, and no way to call for help."

"We're going to starve to death! Or freeze," Davy moaned.

"We have plenty food left and the battery still works. We can run the heater." Henry opened his door and jumped out. "I'll get the extra blanks from the back."

As soon as he returned with the fluffy woolen comforters, he revealed his plan. "I'm going to head up the road a bit see if it branches off and matches the map. Anyone want to come? Morgan? Asher?"

"I'm inclined to stay in the warm interior if you don't mind."

"Morgan?"

"I've got nothing better to do. My phone's dead anyway. Asher, leave it plugged into the portable while we're gone."

"Mm," the nerd made a noncommittal noise as she got out.

"Don't go too far. Be back in an hour," Roselyn warned.

"Right. How far do you think we can get Mor?" Henry grinned.

"Let just go already. I'm freezing." She led the way down the lane, shining a small flashlight at the trees. "Of all the places to get lost in. Why couldn't we have ended up somewhere tropical?"

"Because bugs," Henry laughed.

"There is that," Morgan conceded. "But still. It's cold!"

"Then walk faster."

After several minutes of silence Morgan remarked, "Is it just me, or are the trees getting thinner?"

"You're right." Henry peered at surrounding trunks, using this phone as a flashlight. "Maybe the road joins the rest of civilization after all."

They kept walking until the forest ended and the arrived at the top of a small hill. "Look there!" Henry pointed away to the right.

"Are those lights?"

"It's a town. Or village or something, but there's people! Maybe we can use their phone to call in some gas. Also find out where the nearest pump is." Henry's tone had turned optimistic.

"Or maybe we can do that in the morning after they let us stay the night?" Morgan suggested.

"That too. I'm going to go check it out. Can you run back to the truck and bring them over?"

"Yeah. It's not that far. I'll scream if I get into trouble."

"Good girl. Now off with yeh." He watched as his daughter disappeared back into the forest before descending the hill and making his way to to little village. As he got closer, the details of the place became apparent. The buildings were made of unpolished wood and had thatched roofs. Surrounding the little outpost was a log wall with a solid looking gate. It was closed and locked but a lantern was burning on either side, providing enough illumination to turn of his flashlight.

Henry took a hesitant breath before working up the courage to knock. After several tense moments, a latch was undone and a panel slid back to reveal the tired face of the gate keeper.

"What do you want?" He growled grumpily.

"Well, for starters, I'd like to know the name of this place," Henry confessed. "My family and I ran out of gas on the road over there and we were wondering if we could use your phone. Also to come in, maybe?"

"What the devil are you talking about? What's a phone? And I don't see no family of yours," the gatekeeper's eyes narrowed in distrust. "You one of them South Men?"

"Um no. I'm not from the South. They're just on their way over. Give them a few minute to get here. What was this town called?"

"Bree."

"Right. It wasn't on the map, but then again, I'm surprised the road we were on even showed up. There was an accident on the freeway so we decided to go around but then we got lost. I don't suppose you could give us directions?" Henry asked hopefully.

"That depends on where you want to go, and how much you'd be willing to pay?"

"Oh come on mate, it's just some lousy directions."

"And I still don't see no family o' yours. Come back tomorrow and maybe I'll be inclined to let you in." The gatekeeper slid the panel shut.

"Thanks a lot," Henry mumbled under his breath. He started back up the road toward the woods and met the rest of his family at the top of the hill. "Alright gang. I see you've made it without getting eaten by wolves."

"You shouldn't have sent Morgan back by herself. She could have tripped and hit her head!" Roselyn admonished him.

"But she's fine. It was only fifteen minutes, we would have hear her call out." Henry shook his head, dismissing the subject. "The town over there is called Bree and it's a got a big fence and gate blocking the road in, and the gate guard isn't the friendliest of guys."

"Well let's go try again," his wife suggested.

"The town is named Bree?" Asher exclaimed. "Like from the Lord of the Rings?"

"You can ask them when we get there," Henry rolled his eyes fondly.

"Ugh. Stop being a nerd," Morgan grouched.

"Come on already! Let's go! I'm cold!" Davy pulled on his father's hand.

As soon as they had knocked on the gate for a second time, the gatekeeper angrily opened the panel and hissed, "I told you to go away!" Then he caught sight if the rest of the family and his nose crinkled. "So you were telling the truth then after all."

"Please let us in. We have children," Roselyn beseeched him.

"Bless my soul! You're dark! One of those heathen folk from down South?"

"Excuse _me_!" The CEO interjected. "First of all, you're being exceedingly rude! Secondly none of us are from the South. We live in Washington State and if anyone is being a heathen, then it's you and your rude assumptions."

"Oh she's a feisty lass, that one! Watch yourself there mate." The gatekeeper grinned in mirth. "What are you doing traveling at this time of night?"

"We were in our way home!" Davy responded.

"Were you indeed? Traveling's best left til daylight, eh laddie. Well, I suppose you can come in, but if you cause any trouble then us folk'll drive you lot outta town."

"Fair enough," Henry nodded. The panel slid shut once more and the gate opened with a creak.

"In with you, and be quick about it." The gatekeeper made sure to latch the large gate securely after everyone was inside. "The local inn, the _Prancing Pony_ , is just up a that way. Good night to yur." He shuffled back into the little hut to the left of the gate and let them family get on for themselves.

"Well," Henry began. "That was interesting."

"He said the inn is called the Prancing Pony!" Asher was elated. "This place is most certainly based on the town from the Lord of the Rings! I wonder if everyone is in character and why I haven't heard of this place before."

"What? So you mean this place is like a medieval reenactment village or something?" Morgan voiced impassively.

"But based on Tolkien's works!" Asher confirmed. "Let's go!" He took off at a brisk pace in the direction of the inn.

The Hunter family followed after the excited child and caught up with him under the eaves of the establishment. Asher was gazing up at the hanging sign above the door, which was swinging gently in the wind. " _The Prancing Pony_ ," he whispered reverently.

"Well? You coming in, or shall we leave you and the sign alone for a while?" His mother pushed the door open.

The building's interior was brightly lit and warm enough to send shivers of temperature shock through the newcomers. The main room was mostly empty apart from two wizened old men in a corner, both smoking pipes. The bar man was snoozing behind the counter with his feet propped up next to an empty pint of mead. As they heard the door open, all three seemed to rouse themselves. The Hunter were met with quizzical gazes and the bartender stood up and leaned over the counter.

"And who might you be?" The man was rather fat with a cheerful face, currently marred by the searching expression on his countenance.

"I'm Henry Hunter, this is my wife Roselyn, and my children Morgan, Asher, and Davy. We were on our way home when our truck ran out of gas."

"I'm not sure I rightly know what you're talking about but we don't see many black folk round these parts. I mean no offense to yur," he added seeing their offended glares. "Just stating the truth is all. Where were you doing traveling around these parts at night? The road can be dangerous at this hour."

"We were in our truck…?" Roselyn's face twisted in confusion. "We were perfectly safe."

The barkeep shook his head. "I'm not sure what a truck it but there's thieves and such around at night. Tell you what, you can stay here the night and we'll get you sorted out in the morning. And the name's Butterbur. Barliman Butterbur at your service. And this here is my inn."

Asher grinned widely at this statement and looked around to share his excitement with his family, but none of them recognized the name and his smile dimmed slightly.

"Do you take Visa?" Roselyn asked.

"What?" Butterbur frowned in confusion.

"Nevermind. I think I have some cash. How much for the night? And dinner?"

"Ah!" His face cleared. "That'll be one silver. And another for dinner and breakfast."

"I don't think they use dollars Mom," Morgan whispered.

"But this is America! Of course they use dollars!"

"But if this is an accurate reenactment town then they won't."

"Then what do you pay with?" Roselyn looked cross.

Butterbur, overhearing the end of the conversation, offered, "Well, have you got anything of value?"

The family turned to each other and did a quick inventory of anything they had on them that could be considered valuable.

"I've got my watch," Henry stated.

"I'm wearing diamond earrings," Morgan added.

"I've got the gold necklace you gave me for Christmas," Roselyn offered.

"I've got a lump of iron," Davy added.

"How is that valuable?" Asher rejected him. "I've got the silver coin I got from Grandpa on my birthday, but that's only one coin."

"Well let's see it lad," Butterbur grinned genially.

Asher fished the coin out of his pocket and passed it to the innkeeper. The man's eyes widened and he stared in awe at the coin. "Lad, this is amount of silver is worth at least eight silver pennies. Is it solid?"

"Yessir. Pure solid silver."

"Bless my soul. And you got this for your birthday? Your Grandfather must be rich!"

"It's only worth about fifteen dollars," Asher shrugged. "That would pay for a small meal for one person where I'm from."

The innkeeper's expression changed from wonder to pure astonishment at Asher's dismissive statement.

"You must come from a rich land then." Butterbur took the coin and placed six smaller silver coins in his hand.

"I suppose we do," Asher pondered.

"Follow me and I'll take you to your room, or if you want supper first you're welcome to stay here. You've missed the evening rush. Most folk are in bed at this time of night. Any special requests for supper?"

"Whatever you have I suppose," Henry shrugged. "You guys wanna go check out the room or stay here?"

"Might as well," Morgan shrugged. We can take off our jackets and whatever."

"Right then, follow me." Butterbur led the way down a side hallway to one of the bigger rooms. It had four beds and a wide window with padded seat. The fireplace was ready and waiting to be lit, and the round man set about lighting it first thing.

Asher watched him in fascination and followed the man out when he had finished. "You interested in my work boy?" The innkeeper smiled.

"Yessir. I've never seen a proper inn like this before. Can I watch supper being made?"

"If you like."

The rest of the family made themselves comfortable in their room. Henry and Roselyn took the biggest bed, closest to the fireplace and Morgan claimed the bed nearest the window. Davy settled himself in front of the fire and curled up, gazing at the flames. Morgan took out her phone and remarked, "There's still no service."

Henry turned to his wife and tried his best to school his features into something that didn't say "I told you so". He didn't quite manage it, but Roselyn didn't take offense. Instead she joked, "Well at least we're on an adventure, instead of stuff in traffic."

Henry agreed and the two started discussing the impact their situation would have on work. "We can't even call in," she sighed.

"I'm sure they'll understand. At least we won't have to go in tomorrow," Henry smiled, trying to make the best of it.

Several minutes later, Asher burst into the room, announcing, "Dinner's ready. But they call it supper here. Dinner is lunch."

"Right. Kids? Davy wake up. Morgan." Roselyn stood up and followed her son out of the room. The other son followed and they all sat down at one of the tables in the main room. The other two occupants had apparently gone home. Asher helped Butterbur bring out the plates of food and the family tucked in.

The innkeeper disappeared into the kitchen to clean up and left them to themselves. Asher was the first to speak. "So as far as I can make out Butterbur is either a fenomenalny good actor or he's really never heard of the U.S. and cars and CEOs and doesn't know who the president is. He's under the impression that this is really Middle Earth."

The family pondered on that for a while. Then Davy spoke up. "So I've been noticing… The sky is different. I couldn't find the North Star. There's no clouds. I was keep track of it on the freeway, but after we went into the woods I lost it. It's not in the sky anymore. And the constellations are all wrong. We can't still be on the same part of the Earth."

"Or on the Earth at all," Asher added.

"We're in Middle Earth!" They both concluded.

The family stared at each other and Henry slowly pointed out, "Whether we are or not, which doesn't seem possible, we still need to decide what to do next. There's still no cell service and our truck is out of gas. There probably isn't a gas station anywhere near enough to get to so I think we can count the truck as out of commission. That brings me to problem of money. We don't have anything they use as currency here and I'd rather not have to trade our valuables for food and lodging. As for the issue of how long we're going to be here, let's just assume it's going to be indefinitely. We need to prepare for the fact that we're not going to get home anytime soon. Everything seems to be made from scratch here. That means we need to already be owning something if we want to make anything out of it. And without money that means we'll all need to get a job or have some way of earning money. Ideas?"

"You're a great cook," Roselyn reminded them. "You could probably get a job here at the inn."

"And you knit, Mom," Morgan added.

"But we don't have yarn, or wool, or sheep to get wool from, so that idea is out for the time being," Asher sighed.

"Morgan, you can run pretty fast, maybe you could get a job as a messenger? Do they have couriers here?" Henry turned to Asher.

"In the big countries maybe. Not here. So you believe that we're in a different world?"

"I'm going off the evidence provided. It sounds laughable but we're in a clear area, there should be satellite service. Plus the whole thing with the stars. I'm going to say, might as well believe it. If we're wrong then we're wrong. But if we're not, then we're in a lot of trouble."

"So what do we do?" Davy yawned.

"For starters, I suggest we all go to bed and work everything out in the morning. We can ask Mr. Butterbur about it too." Roselyn's tone was firm. "It's past everyone's bedtime. I'm sure we can all sleep in. Come on. Back to the room everyone."

Once the family was settled in, everyone was too tired to even try to come up with solutions and within a few minutes they were all asleep.

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 **Alright. I'll try to get a chapter out once a week, but no promises. My laptop is broken and I don't have access to this site on the school laptops, so updates will probably be sparse, but I will keep writing chapters even if I can't upload them. Anyway, REVIEW! I want to know what you think of this story!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Tada! Two updates in a row! Woohoo! I'm currently borrowing a friend's laptop to update this, so count yourselves lucky. This will not be normal thing. Anyway, Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

Morgan was the first person up the next morning. The clock proclaimed it to be around eight in the morning and, ever the early riser, she got up and wandered down to the main room. The inn keeper was already up, tidying the place in preparation for the coming day.

"Anything I can help with?" She offered.

"Oh no lass. You're a guest. Can I get yeh anything? Water? Tea?" Butterbur smiled sincerely at her.

"Just water is fine. Do you have a cook on staff?" She followed him to the kitchen and accepted the proffered mug with grace.

"Well, 'e has a family of his own you know, and 'e's not always available. But we make do. I can cook well enough meself."

"My Dad's an amazing cook. He has thousands of recipes memorized and can make even the most bland food taste wonderful," Morgan supplied hopefully.

"Is that so?"

"Yep, and he's currently out of a job," she added.

"I thought you folk were on your way home." The round man gestured to a stool and sat down on an adjacent barrel.

Morgan perched comfortably on the low stool and leaned back against the wall. "Well, we were but… Mr Butterbur, can you keep a secret?"

He chuckled, "It's just Butterbur lass. And that depends on the secret."

"I'm sure you'd never believe the mad ravings of a young girl anyway," she paused thoughtfully. "Well. What do you know of other worlds?" Morgan began.

"Other worlds?" The innkeeper echoed, intrigued. "Nothing, I should think. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, we seem to have come from another world and ended up in this one. Our world has these amazing contraptions call cars and they can carry passengers at incredible speeds. And these things called planes, they fly in the sky and take people all over the world in only a few hours. And we can talk to anyone we want at any time, no matter how far away they are, as if they were standing right next to you, with these things called phones." Morgan was on a roll and became encouraged further upon seeing the poor man's eyes widen with awed disbelief.

"And in the other world, we were coming home from snowboarding in the mountains - that's a kind of sport - and we were on the fast road, a freeway, and there was an accident up ahead so everyone had to stop and wait for it to clear, but that would have taken hours, so we decided to take a different route and follow these back roads through the forest to go around and then we got lost and-"

The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted her boisterous tale and she glanced towards the door with chagrin. Henry was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, and looking on with a mix of mild amusement and disapproval.

"Morgan."

"Sorry Dad. I just go so into it and I think we can trust him. Asher says he's-"

"What Asher says doesn't necessarily mean it's true, Morgan." He turned to the innkeeper raised an eyebrow. "So what do you think of her story Mr. Butterbur?"

"Just Butterbur thank you. I think it's quite the tale."

"Do you believe it?"

"Is it true?"

Henry was silent.

"Dad, let's ask the rest of them what they think," Morgan tried to make amends.

"As you should have done." He turned back to the owner of the inn. "Join us for breakfast, Butterbur?"

"I'd be happy to," the man grinned. "On the condition that miss Morgan here finishes her story."

"Alright Morgan, go wake the others. Butterbur? May I assist you in making breakfast?" Henry uncrossed his arms and pushed up off the doorframe.

"If your skill is as good as your daughter claims, then I'd be honored."

By the time everyone had sat down to a breakfast of crepes, eggs, and whipped cream, Henry had succeeded in convincing the innkeeper to give him the job. Butterbur was all too happy do so, remarking, "I've never heard of food like this. It's most delicious! My inn will be a right popular place with you as cook."

"You're most welcome sir," Henry laughed. "Right. Morgan, I do believe you owe our host a story."

"Where did I leave off? Oh yes. We'd just gotten lost and the map has stopped working - it's able to tell us our location on the map - and then our truck ran out of gas - that's what powers it - and Dad and I decided to explore up the road a bit. We saw your town and brought the others here and, well, here we are."

"Indeed. You don't, by any chance, happen to know where you left this _truck_ of yours do you? I'd dearly love to see it." The innkeeper gazed hopefully at the strange family.

The Hunters exchanged glances and Roselyn shrugged, "Might as well. We still need to get the rest of our stuff out."

"You can help carry things!" Davy informed the rotund man.

"I think we can manage quite well on our own, Davy," Asher rolled his eyes. "We packed everything up in one go, so we can unpack it in one as well."

* * *

"Right," Butterbur stated. "Folk round here have never seen people 'o your coloring before, meaning no disrespect mind you, so you should be expecting a lot a stares. I'll vouch for yeh, but until they get a taste of yer man Henry's cooking and get to know you all a bit, you'd best keep an eye out for trouble."

"Alright," Roselyn led the way out of the inn and onto the road. The party made their way back to the truck and Butterbur's eyes widened to their limit and his mouth dropped open.

The narrator realizes that a description of the vehicle in question is now in order. The truck is a 2005 Toyota Tacoma pickup truck that is glaringly red. Needless to say it contrasted starkly with the surrounding trees. Beams of sunlight fell through the trees and bounced off the reflective surfaces. It belonged to Roselyn, who loved the old thing and couldn't bare to sell it for a newer model. It had remained a faithful companion over the years and the CEO was sad to realize it would end up in disrepair in this world.

Butterbur slowly approached the vehicle and completed a circuit, appreciating the sight. "That's certainly not of _this_ world," he agreed.

Henry hefted the cover of the bed of the truck and opened the tailgate. The innkeeper watched in fascination as the family unloaded two bags each. Henry, Roselyn, and Morgan moved the baggage behind the truck and turned to their new friend.

"Think we should hide it?" Henry asked. Maybe push it into a ditch and cover it with leaves for something?"

"Good idea. You don't want any of those bandits poking at it. I'll help you push. There's a big enough ditch about fifty yards up the road."

The four of them managed to slowly push the truck into the designated ditch while Asher turned the steering wheel to guide it to the side of the road. "Alright Asher, hop on out," Roselyn called.

Together, the six of them pushed the vehicle over the edge of the road then stood back and watched it tumble down. Roselyn somberly said a few words in memory of her favorite ride and the adults set about covering the gleaming red object from view. Once they had finished, the party hefted the bags back to the room, to the interest of the town, which was now mostly awake and entirely curious.

"They'll all be coming down come dinner time. Wanting to see the new attractions so to speak," Butterbur warned.

"I'm sure we'll be able to cope, right gang?" Henry grinned. "Butterbur! Should I get the food going?"

"Might as well. Looks like the braver souls are already heading over. Don't give away too much about that strange world of yours. They all like a good tale, but some of 'em are want to take it seriously. Could end up with an angry mob your hands if ya aren't careful."

Henry disappeared into the kitchen while the rest of them took over the biggest center table. True to Butterbur's predictions, the townsfolk started wandering in. This was due in part to the general sense of curiosity, but mostly the delicious smells wafting from the kitchens drew them over. Everyone who entered the establishment proceeded to order "whatever that stuff that smells so good is". Soon over half the town had crowded into the inn's main room, and the food started arriving at the tables.

Henry had chosen, under the constraints of limited ingredients, to make a bruschetta starter drizzled with a sweet brown vinaigrette while the rest of the meal finished cooking. The main course, which was delivered forty-five minutes after the last of the bruschetta had been devoured, consisted of baked potatoes filled with creamy chicken mac and cheese.

The narrator thinks that clarification of the meal would be a good idea, considering Bree, and indeed Middle Earth at large, does not have commercially shaped noodles ready to cook. Luckily for our cook, the townsfolk don't care much for the presentation of the food and have never even heard of macaroni, or indeed any shape of pasta, before. Henry, being a good cook, of course knows how to make pasta dough from scratch and just pinches off small pieces to boil. Which to be honest would have been more convenient if he'd had the right kind of flour and… Well nevermind that.

While Henry was busy cooking, the rest of the family had struck up a conversation with the other diners. "So you're from a country to the East?"

"Well, it's not a country so much an a sparsely inhabited wild land without any form of government." Asher replied to most of the questions as he was the expert of the group. "We came from the farthest reaches of the East, right on the Eastern shore."

"What's over there?" They asked, with shocked eagerness.

"Not much," Asher pursed his lips regretfully.

Your narrator takes this time to inform you that not much is known about the Far East, mainly because Tolkien never wrote anything concrete regarding it. There are a few maps, but those are without useful markings and most of the names are too small to read, obviously designating their unimportance. These unfortunate facts mean that Asher knows about as much about the Far East as everyone else. But of course that won't stop him from giving off the illusion that he knows everything there is to know. He's quite a condescending character all things considered. Oh but now I'm getting off topic again. As I was saying…

Asher changed the topic to the surrounding lands and asked numerable question about the area, who lived where, and milked them for any and all information they were willing to dispense.

Oh yes. The narrator regrets to realize most of you are awaiting the arrival of some characters which are not human, specifically the hobbits of Bree. Fear not readers, there are indeed hobbits currently at the inn. In fact most of them had entered into a conversation with Davy about the benefits of living in a house versus a hobbit hole. Davy, of course, can only draw off his experiences with minecraft. However, this Survivalist is skilled in equating his knowledge for the purposes of conversation with non minecraft savvy persons.

His mother would occasionally glance over from her own conversation and smile at him. She was in the process of thoroughly impressing several of the the men with her forceful personality, regaling them with tales of her work. The office dramas and deadlines seemed to amuse them and as she leaned back comfortably in her chair, completely at ease, a small amount of respect filled their eyes.

Morgan, ever the odd one out, was sitting in a corner listening to her music and watching the proceedings with a mix of vague discomfort, and boredom. Her antisocial attitude didn't seem to fit in with the other jovial patrons and she attracted more than a few stares. One of the bolder younger fellows was eyeing her speculatively and finally decided to make his move.

He slyly stole away from the conversation he'd only been half listening to and made his way lightly over to the preoccupied girl. Her eyes were downcast and her attention was on the screen of her phone so she hadn't seen him approach. Her lengthy curly hair, which was usually braided back, spilled down over her shoulders, shrouding her behind a curtain of black curls and giving her the appearance of a dark haired nymph.

The young man stood to her left and cleared his throat. She glanced up and her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you want?" She mumbled, resigning herself to the impending conversation.

"Your name is Morgan? I'm Danny."

"That's nice."

"I thought you could use a little company. Why don't you come join my table?"

"I'm good here, thanks."

"Then may I join you here?"

She shrugged, and he sat down. "You wear strange clothes," was his first remark.

"Yeah, they're called jeans. Everyone wears them back home." She kept her eyes on the screen of her phone, idly opening and closing random apps, trying to appear busy.

"And both the women and men of your home wear similar clothing?"

"Yep."

"What's that?" Danny asked curiously, pointing at her phone.

"It's a magic device that lights up and can play music."

"Really?" He sounded delighted. "I'm very fond of music. It contains music from your land does it not? Will you share it with me?"

"I don't think you'll like most of it."

"Try me."

"Fine. You asked for it." Morgan slipped the earbuds out of her ears and handed them to Danny. He tried to copy her movements in reverse but couldn't quite get the buds in correctly. She smiled wryly and adjusted them properly. Setting the volume to a lower notch, she pressed shuffle and let the first song play without checking to see what it was.

As the new sounds filled his ears Danny gave her a wide grin. "This is amazing! And you can just have the music play whenever you like, without needed instruments? How did your people manage such a thing? It is magic?"

"Yes. Very magical," Morgan rolled her eyes with a small laugh.

Danny's mouth dropped open when the first lyrics started and he watched the girl's face with an expression of eager anticipation.

Morgan glanced at the title of the song and she snorted in sudden amusement. The melodic strains of Katy Perry's _I Kissed A Girl_ were the first taste of modern Earth music to grace the young man's ears.

"This is a strange song," he declared somewhat chagrined, knowing full well that if he complained he'd lose the victory.

"Yeah, give it here." Morgan shook her head with sardonic laugh. "I'll give you a more age appropriate song." She flipped through the her library until she found Demi Lovato's _Gift of a Friend_. "Try this one."

Danny liked that one much better. Once it was over he asked, "What were you listening to before?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes?"

She switched the song and leaned back watching his face. Fall Out Boy's _Phoenix_ started playing and, though the music wasn't something Danny was used to, he claimed he liked the song better than the first two.

"Huh. Alright." Morgan shrugged, her face remaining impassive. She took one of the earbuds and started quietly mumbling the lyrics.

"Do you sing?" Danny gave voice to his question.

"Only when I'm alone."

"Will-"

"No. No way. Didn't you hear what I just said? No." The teenager crossed her arms and glared at the crestfallen young man,

"I wasn't going to ask you to sing," he sullenly replied. "I was going to ask if you'd share your music with the rest of the company."

"Oh. Well that's all right then. I'll have to ask my Mom. I don't think we're supposed to share things from our homeland."

"Then let us ask." He made him way over to Roselyn's audience with Morgan protesting behind him and promptly interrupted one of the men's questions. "Lady Roselyn," he began eloquently. "Your daughter wishes to know she may share-" At this point Morgan was furiously shaking her head no, "some music from her homeland-" The unfortunate teen's efforts grew more pronounced, "with the rest of us all." Danny finished with obvious amusement.

The crowd had heard and shouts rang out demanding "A song! A song!"

Roselyn smiled radiantly at her daughter and agreed with the general public. "Yes Morgan, why don't you play a song for these lovely people."

"Mom no. Please. Come on! Mom!" The furious whispers went ignored as the patrons' shouts grew.

"Fine!" She glared murderously at the at grinning young man, and pick a song she thought would shut him up. The first notes of the Declan Galbraith's rendition of _Danny Boy_ rang out as the crowd fell silent.

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,

From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.

The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying.

'Tis you, 'tis you, must go and I must bide.

But come ye back, when summer's in the meadow,

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow.

'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

At this point, Danny's ears had gone red and his face flushed with humiliation. Morgan's face held a fiercely triumphant expression and the crowd laughed good naturedly. As the song played on, Danny managed to gather himself together and gave Morgan a pained glance. Once the final note of the song faded out, the audience gave an enthusiastic round of applause and demanded to know where the music had come from.

The rest of the afternoon, with Roselyn's permission, Morgan tried to explain the concept of an iPhone. Davy took what he claimed to be general permission to explain technology, to show anyone interested his Minecraft worlds. Asher continued to do research on the actual workings of Middle Earth while Henry came out of the kitchen to meet everyone and receive his compliments for the meal.

Butterbur set out to clear away the last of the plates and remarked, "I've never had a so much success just for dinner before in the history of this inn! You, Henry, are my savior. This inn has lost some of its worth over the years, but I have a feeling that with you here, people will come from all over to eat food from the best cook in Middle Earth!"

"That's high praise indeed," Henry smiled gratefully. "Untrue, but still high praise."

"Just you wait! Soon everyone in the outlying lands will praise your cooking!" Butterbur beamed.

Henry shook his head with a rueful laugh. "Hopefully I'll be able to make enough money for my family."

"You're welcome to stay here for as long as you all want, free of charge."

"Thank you, but we can pay-"

"No, I insist! The lass and the missus can help wait tables if you'd like, but it's not necessary. And I'm sure you're boys will do well under an apprenticeship- If you plan to stay that is." He leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, " _Can_ you even get back to your own world?"

"Perhaps, but if I know anything about magic other dimensional portals, then it won't be as easy we'd hope. Maybe I'll take the kids and we'll explore around where we came through tomorrow." Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"And if you don't find anything?"

"Then we'll be here, for as long as you'll have us."

The innkeeper regarded his new dark friends with approval. "There you have it then."

* * *

 **There you have then indeed. Tune in next week, hopefully, (or sooner perhaps) for the next** **installation. Reviews make me write faster!**

 **Also, I'm currently deciding when to have Aragorn come in. Suggestions will be taken into careful consideration.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I HAVE RETURNED! So to recap, my laptop had** **viruses that my dad managed to fix, but the hardrive was damaged and it wouldn't connect to wifi at all. However, this update is brought to you by my brand new Macbook pro which I got yesterday! Let me tell you, it's awesome! Here is the next chapter, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

Long after the children had gone to bed, Henry and Butterbur were discussing the challenges the family would face, being in a new world.

"What I don't really get," Henry mused, "Is that the people here aren't afraid of, what must look like to them, Magic. The kids were charging right ahead when it came to showing everyone their phones. I've no idea why Roselyn thought it would be a good idea."

Butterbur smiled grimly, "I think I can clear that up. You weren't there to notice, but while Morgan was playing her song, several of the more superstitious fellows look as if they wanted to start a riot. Then everyone 'ad her explaining about what she calls _science_ and she did a good a job of it. I understand more or less how her device is supposed to work. She'd be a good teacher, that one. I think it was the explanation, delivered with confidence and a small amount of condescending humor, that really did the trick. Of course there's still a few skeptics, but yer lad Davy managed to convince the hobbit folk at least that there was nothing to fear from these _Phones._ If you have anything else like it, you might want to wait a bit for the whole thing to sink in before you try to share anything again."

"Will do," Henry nodded appreciatively. "So how come you were fine with everything from the start?"

"Awh, I've seen a thing or two in my time. I know a wizard in fact. Plus I've had to keep my eyes open and watchful for any strange doings around my inn. We get a lot a different folk traveling through, and they all stay in this very inn. I suppose I've just gotten used to new things and can take it better than some."

"But all that is from _this_ world," Henry countered.

"True. You did give me quite the shock when I saw that red thing 'o yers. But as I said, I've seen lot of strange things. If you'd want proper advice for your situation, you might want to talk to that wizard friend I mentioned. Gandalf is his name. He knows a lot of things about even more things. And if he can't help, I'm sure that he knows someone who can."

"Thank you, Butterbur." Henry's face was sincere. "How often does this wizard drop in?"

"Oh, every once in awhile. He's been popping by every few years recently. Going to check on a friend of his in the Shire he says. The last time 'e was here was about two years ago, maybe. I have a feeling he's going to turn up again next spring of summer."

"Right. Oh! And I forgot to ask. What month is it? Do you even have months here?" The last bit was said more to himself than to the innkeeper.

"We do indeed," Butterbur laughed. "Today is the twenty-seventh of November and the year is 3009, Third Age."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "We left our world on the twenty-sixth of November, which matches up with this world, but our year is 2016 AD - we don't have Ages as far as I know. If we did, I suppose AD could be considered a second age. People _did_ restart the count. An Age is when you restart the count right?"

"More or less," Butterbur confirmed.

"I wonder if it really matches up, and if so, then does time move the same?" Henry lapsed into contemplative silence. The innkeeper watched him for a moment before he shrugged and got up to complete his rounds. The inn was still full of people and he had work to do. Henry started, and looked around blinking. He'd been lost in his thoughts for so long, the inn was mostly empty. Everyone had left to finish off the work for today.

As his eyes scanned the room, he noticed his children were gathered near the window deep in discussion.

"We cannot do that! It would divert the storyline!" Asher was protesting.

"But it would be cool!" Davy whined.

"Either way, I still want to go see the rest of this place," Morgan crossed her arms.

"Just so long as no one disturbs the plot line, I suppose it won't make much of a difference," Asher sniffed.

"What are we talking about?" Henry shot the question across the room as he walked over.

"Exploring the rest of Middle Earth!" Davy shouted gleefully. "Morgan wants to go see all the elf places and I wanna see that huge city in Gongdoor!"

" _Gondor_ ," Asher stressed. "The city is called Minas Tirith, or the White City depending on who you refer to."

"Well how are you going to get to your destinations?" Henry smiled wryly.

"I-! Uh. Well, I'll walk I suppose!" Davy crossed his arms defensively.

"And do you know just how long it will take you to walk there? It's a really long way." Henry joined them at the table and leaned back comfortably.

"As his current walking speed, it will take him about four months to walk to Gondor, and with a horse (which you don't know how to ride, Davy) it'll take him about three weeks if he doesn't get hopelessly lost. And that's assuming he knows how to read his position on a map and doesn't run into any unpleasant creatures or thieves."

"Well Davy? What do you think? Is it possible for you to go there anytime soon?" Henry grinned.

"No," Davy sighed. "I'd have to learn a lot of stuff first and I'd need supplies and to know how to use real weapons incase I run into a Bossfight."

"Or even just a normal fight. And you've forgotten about wild carnivorous animals," Asher supplied.

"And what about you Morgan?" Henry turned to her.

"I never said I wanted to go right now. Just sometime. Asher, tell him about the storyline thing," she excused herself from the conversation by pulling out her phone.

"That thing is going to die soon," Asher pointed out.

"I've got a solar charger!" Davy exclaimed excitedly. "For occasions such as this!" He stated grandly.

"What storyline?"

Asher glanced around furtively and whispered, "The Lord of the Rings storyline? Going by what Butterburr said, the story has really not begun. Gandalf still visits a hobbit  
(I'm assuming it's Frodo) in the Shire, meaning that Frodo hasn't left Baggend and the Nazgul haven't left Mordor yet."

"That's good though, right?" Morgan perked up. "That means we're safe here."

"For now yes, but again, you must remember that we look like people hailing from the Harad. And they never leave their country all that often."

"But you told everyone we were from the east!" Davy complained.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they believed us, and if anyone else passes by, they'll automatically assume that we're from the south. So we all need to be careful and not piss anyone off."

"Good point, Asher," Henry nodded. "Also, for the time being, I'd prefer if you didn't take anything electrictronic out of our rooms. People have been eyeing us more suspiciously since last night. I don't think they've warmed up to the idea alright?"

The kids nodded and Davy and Morgan went up to their room to continue electronic-ing. Asher turned to his father and began, "We'll all need to get jobs and learn at least one style of fighting with the weapons they use here. In some ways it's even more dangerous than our world."

"That's true. What's your plan?"

"I was thinking that if the blacksmith had an opening, I could apprentice there. He probably wouldn't know how to forge weapons, but I could try to figure it out in a few years, once I've got the basics down. Davy is still a little too young for a proper apprenticeship and I don't think Morgan would like being stuck in one. I was thinking that if we ever run into any of the Rangers then we could ask if they'd take Morgan on. And Mom could open up a knitting business once we've got enough money to buy her some yarn and things."

"That's a pretty good plan. We'll talk to the others about it over dinner - supper, my bad, and see what they think."

Asher nodded and got up. "Well, I'm going to go explore the town. I'll be back at dinner."

"Take your sister with you."

Asher sighed, but went up stairs to convince Morgan to go outside. Henry went to go look for Butterbur about supper, and disappeared into the kitchen.

Asher knocked on the door and poked his head in. Morgan had her earbuds in so he lunged over to her and tapped her shoulder. She glared at him but pulled an ear out. "What do you want?"

"I'm going to explore the town, and Dad doesn't want us going by ourselves."

"I wanna come!" Davy hopped up from his place in front of the fire.

"Fine, but you owe me one," Morgan groaned and put her stuff down. Once everyone had shoes and jackets on, they left the inn and headed farther down the street. The people they passed glanced at them warily but left them alone. The children on the other hand had formed a posse and were following the darker kids with obvious interest.

Davy turned to the closest child, a little blonde girl, and smiled toothily at her. She grinned back and marched right up to him. "You look funny!"

" _You_ look funny!" Davy shot back. "I'm Davy."

"Marie." She clasped her hands behind her back and rocked on her toes. "Where did you come from?"

Davy looked at Asher, who took over the explanation. "We came from the Eastern shores," the twelve year old crossed his arms.

"Is it pretty there?" She blinked.

"Yes, if you like that kind of terrain."

"What's te-rain?"

"Land."

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"We are exploring the town," Davy picked up the conversation. "We've never been here before."

"I'll show you!" She rocked excitedly and ran towards to the nearest building. "This is my house!"

She proceeded to show the three newcomers every little detail about the town that she could think of and by the time they got back to the inn, it was starting to get dark.

"I have to go home now! Goodbye!" She ran off and the rest of the group dispersed back to their own homes.

The Hunter children walked into the Prancing Pony to the smell of their dad's famous roast beef stew. Rosalyn was rushing around with Butterbur waiting tables and the place was packed. Morgan accepted a plate from her mother and brought it upstairs, leaving the noisy din for the quiet solitude of her room. She brought out her phone and checked the battery. It only had about 40% left, so she turned the brightness down, put her music on shuffle, and settled onto her bed to enjoy the meal.

After the guests had gone home and the cleanup was done, the family headed upstairs to have a meeting. "Right," Henry began. "Let's start by recounting what we all did today."

"I wanna go first!" Davy shouted. "I went out with Asher and Morgan and we explored the whole town! Did you know that the fence goes all the way around the town? And there's a blacksmith and a baker and all the farms are outside the town mixed in with some other towns nearby! And I made a friend! Her name is Marie!"

"That's great Davy!" Rosalyn congratulated. "Who's next?"

"I'll go." Asher cleared his throat. "I was conversing with Dad earlier and we came to the agreement that everyone gets a job. Dad will work here at the inn as cook, we can set Mom up with a knitting business, I'll see if I can find an apprenticeship - preferably at the blacksmith's. We passed by it today and I got a glimpse inside. It's pretty well kept for a smithy and I wouldn't mind learning the trade there. The only problem would be to convince the smith himself to take me on. As for Morgan, I was thinking that she could join the Rangers, if they'll take her, and learn how to use weapon, track, and other essential knowledge for this world if one plans to do any traveling at all."

"But I'm a girl," Morgan pointed out. "This world is totally male oriented."

"The Rangers have female members, and there are shieldmaidens in this world who know how to fight. If we can convince them to take you on then you'll be set."

"What about me?" Davy whined. "What's my job?"

"You're still a little too young to have an actual job or enter into an apprenticeship, especially considering you don't know how to do much of anything that would be useful in the world." Asher crossed his arms.

"I know how to map out stars and I'm a good architect!"

"Then your job is to map out the constellations and once we have enough money to get a bit of land, you can make the plans for our new house, alright?"

"Okay!" Davy sat back, appeased.

Morgan sighed and took up the mantel of speaker. "Today, I went with Asher and Davy to explore the town," her sardonic tone caused Rosalyn to purse her lips. "Also, in case anyone hadn't noticed we aren't the only travelers in town anymore."

The narrator takes this opportunity to describe the other travelers which the narrative seems to have left out for some odd reason. Probably because it wasn't all that interesting and none of the Hunters had actually seen them come in. Anyhow, a group of merchants had come in and had set up camp outside the town. They hadn't actually gotten past the gatekeeper just yet, seeing as when they arrived it was almost dark. The old fellow was a right suspicious one and apparently the merchants looked too suspicious. Which was very suspicious. But back to the story.

"We heard," Henry nodded. "They ordered a lot of supplies from the grocer and don't want to come into town. We'll see what happens tomorrow I guess. So today, Butterbur gave me my first pay." He held out two silver pennies. "I still have no idea how much anything is worth around here, so I can't calculate how much I got paid. He also says that if I keep up the good work, he'll leave me in charge of buying the supplies for the kitchen."

"That's wonderful, Henry!" Rosalyn smiled. "I guess it's my turn then." She poked at the fireplace, then reached into her pocket. "I was talking with some of the women in the town and we got to chatting about knitting. I drew up some patterns for them and they've never seen any of the fancy designs like in my books at home so I let them have the patterns and the colored synthetic yarn I brought with me in exchange for twice as much normal wool yarn.

So now I have enough yarn to start selling little hats and gloves and decorative scarves and things for winter. I wish I'd've brought all my knitting needles and things. Then I could have could make tons more things."

"You didn't bring the box with you?" Henry asked. "I thought I saw it in the back of the truck."

"No dear, I didn't bring the needle box."

"It was in the back of the truck!" Davy exclaimed indignantly. "I put it there! You told me to put your knitting stuff in the truck, so I did!"

"Well where is it then?"

Davy jumped up and ran to the pile of things by the window. He dug through to the bottom of the pile and pulled out the box. "Tada!"

"Davy! You've saved the day!" Henry proclaimed.

Davy's triumphant grin spread over his whole face and he gave a little bow.

"Perfect!" Asher sat up. "So is it all agreed that we ask the blacksmith about the apprenticeship tomorrow?"

"Don't you think we should wait awhile for everyone to get used to us?  
It'd be a lot simpler to get you an apprenticeship if people accept us first and actually start to like us. Asher, the awesome cook's son versus Asher, the complete and total stranger."

"Well, we can also ask Butterbur if he can help us out."

"No we can't. He's already done plenty for us and it'd be best if we didn't ask for anything big for a while okay?"

"Alright."

"Good, and now I think it's bed time. At least for me," Henry laughed. He went to bed and the others soon followed suit.

The narrator now takes this time to add on a hastily written, sad attempt at a cliff hanger, because the next part of the story is very interesting and finally introduces one of the characters you've been waiting for and also depicts a rather interesting turn of events concerning Davy. Although now that I've hinted towards it I don't really need a cliffhanger do I? Oh well, close enough. Has anyone managed to guess who I am yet? Not that it matters, but I suppose it's a fun game to play. And furthermore- oh, I've gotten off track again. My apologies.

Early the next morning, the sky was overcast and the first flakes of snow started falling to the ground. Davy woke up to the sight of a silent white white town and ran outside, barely taking the time to put his shoes on. He burst out of the inn doors, without a jacket or a hat, and grinned as he was the first person to mar the perfect white ground. He ran in circles, leaving furrows in the wet snow and thoroughly soaking his feet and the bottom of his PJ's. As he neared the gate, his began to get so dizzy that he almost bumped right into a dark shape. He stumbled and would have fallen face first into the snow had the cloaked man not grabbed the back of his striped shirt. Davy's eyes raked up from the ground, catching sight of the pommel of a sword poking out of the cloak. He looked up at face hidden in shadows and gulped.

* * *

 **TADA! Also I moved out of my parents' house finally, which is nice. So I won't have people looking over my shoulder all the time asking me what I'm writing. Until next time peeps! (Which will hopefully be sometime next week, shooting for** **Monday.)**


	4. Author Update

Hello all!

I'm terribly sorry for the wait on all my stories! You're all being so nice and I still have reviews coming in every few months or so, and I just wanted to put out a tiny update note to say that I'm still here, and I do see you! Your continued support means a lot to me!

I've been struggling with depression and anxiety and found out I have autism, among other things. I'm currently dealing with an enormous amount of stress and can't find and keep a job, and things are just a mess right now. So to anyone who has similar struggles or just wants someone to vent to, feel free to reach out! Life can be really hard and fanfiction is one of the things that makes people smile and can sometimes inspire! I've read so many amazingly written fics and they've really given me some perspective on my own life and character development. My story is only just starting, and no matter who old any of you are, there's always room for a new chapter in your lives! Even if there's only one person who likes you or your creations, that's still one person who appreciates and loves you in their own way. And even though I don't actually know any of you, just knowing you're out there really helps me out sometimes! So thank you all so much!

I'm going to try writing again, and updates will not be constant, and it may even be years between them, but my stories are by no means abandoned! I love all my characters and will be going back to edit and improve the quality of what I already have out. I'm hoping to improve my writing skills but my main goal is to just have fun and enjoy something I still love and cherish.

Thank you all, I love you peeps! So much!

~Star


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